


laid bare

by bickz



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Childhood Friends, Creampie, Emotionally Repressed, Established Relationship, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Time Skip, Romantic Friendship, Simultaneous Orgasm, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, im just tossing tags in here to see what sticks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 15:50:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21340774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bickz/pseuds/bickz
Summary: Ingrid and Felix have been in each other's lives since before they could remember, and neither of them have any intention of letting that change.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	laid bare

**Author's Note:**

> here have this thing that i was writing as a warmup and then it turned into its own entity!! 
> 
> ...i don't even rly ship these two on their own but fuck did i enjoy writing this. emotionally stunted and traumatised love is my fucking kink apparently!!!

It’s a clear spring night, and there’s no place in the entire world that Ingrid would rather be than right here, sprawled out on her bed, comfortably propped up with fluffy pillows, Felix’s head resting on her abdomen, his lean arms outstretched to absently rub up and down her exposed legs on either side of him. She’s half heartedly reading a book detailing some of Loog’s knightly adventures, too distracted by how Felix melts under her gentle petting of his hair. If only the others could see Felix like this, with his guard lowered, a soft smile tugging at his lips, his calloused hands so gentle in their caresses along her calves. 

Ingrid isn’t sure when they started this routine. It wasn’t exactly right after Glenn’s death. No, that would have been too soon, too deep a wound to go about life as if nothing had happened afterwards. They both mourned the tragic, sudden loss in their own unhealthy ways. But, eventually, they did find themselves back in each other’s company, the distance between them gradually fizzling into nothing but a memory. These moments didn’t come to be until they were forced to confront each other (and their mutual feelings) during their time in the Officers Academy. 

And Ingrid couldn’t be more grateful to have Felix back in her life. She missed his smile, his unique way of showing affection, the tenderness in his eyes, his warmth, and Goddess, she would rather be flogged than have to live without ever being able to hold him again. There are still days when Ingrid looks at Felix and sees Glenn, clear as day in every move he makes, every breath he takes. But then he looks at her, cracks a lopsided grin that reaches his eyes, makes a teasing quip at her with his cheeks flushed, and Ingrid is snapped out of her daydream, is reminded that he isn’t Glenn -- he isn’t some ideal she’s concocted over the years, isn’t a picturesque knight she fell in love with as a child, isn’t the saviour of her poor family. 

No, this is Felix Hugo Fraldarius, the man that’s still very much alive and snoozing softly in her lap, her best friend that fought tooth and nail to drag her out of her make-believe world of fairytale knights and true love’s kiss. Ingrid feels her heart ache as she looks down at him, as she hears him hum contently. She presses her nails into his scalp, massaging just the way she knows he likes, before grabbing a handful of his hair and tugging gently.

“Ingrid,” Felix breathes, opening an eye to look up at her grinning face.

“Felix,” Ingrid answers, barely a whisper as she leans over him. 

Felix returns the smile as she closes the distance between their mouths, perfectly slotting their lips together despite the less than ideal position. He lets Ingrid kiss him, slow, hesitant, soft. She’s always been more of a pacifist, too kind and gentle for her own good. But, Felix is very much the opposite; he reaches a hand up to get a fistful of Ingrid’s hair, using the leverage to change the angle of their mouths and slip a tongue between her surprised lips. She moans into his mouth, and he swallows it down as he surges up, breaking the fervent kiss only momentarily so he can properly sit up and crowd in between her legs. 

“Ingrid,” Felix growls hungrily. He lets his teeth graze along her lower lip.

“F…Felix,” Ingrid moans, fixing him with a dark, needy look.

Oh, and what kind of man would Felix be if he didn’t indulge her? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he denied Ingrid her desires, if he refused to kiss her until she buried her hands in his hair, if he rejected her pleading mewls for  _ more, please, kiss me again, touch me, Felix, please _ . If Felix was a religious man, he’d be praying that the Goddess let these moments of fleeting happiness last forever. But he isn't. So, instead, he vows to cherish Ingrid as much as possible in the time they do have.

Felix is merciless in his devotion, making quick work of what little clothes Ingrid still has on, kissing every inch of new skin he gets access to. He tries not to think about how he’s too impatient, too eager to please, too rough, too unskilled -- how Sylvain is definitely a better lover than himself. But, Ingrid  _ chose _ Felix, not Sylvain, not Dimitri, no one else. She invites  _ him  _ back to her room; she kisses  _ him  _ first. And that’s what he tells himself as he presses his lips and teeth along Ingrid’s collar, nuzzling his way up to her jaw as he gets a handful of her ample, soft breast, thumbing over her nipple to elicit breathless whimpers. Every soft noise she makes drives him crazy, has his heart pounding excitedly, stokes the heat growing inside of him.

“Felix…let me-- I want--” Ingrid stammers, her head foggy with lust as Felix’s other hand travels down, down, down, teases at the mess of golden curls between her legs. He doesn’t delve in just yet, wants to give her a fighting chance before he absolutely ruins her.

“What is it?” Felix demands while he nips at Ingrid’s neck, relentless in his pursuit to mark her, to make sure that everyone knows that Ingrid spends her evenings with  _ him _ . 

“--you. I want--  _ want to touch you _ ,” Ingrid finally forces out.

Felix grins against Ingrid’s jaw, giving her a final peck before sitting back, getting a good look at just how wrecked she already is with her hair disheveled and her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. She lets a hand fall from his hair, her eyes focusing in on her prize as she reaches out, but Felix is kinder than she gives him credit for, already in the process of undoing his trousers with the hand that was previously groping at her chest. As soon as Felix has the laces undone, Ingrid is pushing her fingers into his pants, surprising him with her forcefulness and drawing out a deep grunt as she grabs him  _ hard _ .

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Felix growls, squeezing his eyes shut as his hips jerk forward into Ingrid’s tight fist.

Ingrid grins triumphantly, pumping her hand down to Felix’s hilt, all dry, calloused, warm flesh against his most sensitive parts. She uses her free hand to push his pants further down his thighs and drags her blunt nails along the pale skin she reveals. Another groan wells in Felix’s throat, and he forgets for just a moment that he had wanted to get his fingers in Ingrid. All he can think about is how good her hand feels, how she squeezes and twists his cock so deliciously, pushing her thumb against his foreskin, smearing his precum down his length. 

“ _ Felix _ ,” Ingrid whines, and that’s all it takes to snap him out of his delirium.

Long dark lashes flutter open, warm caramel meeting bright seafoam green. “So needy,” Felix chides with a curl to his lips. He’s already got his hands back on Ingrid though, this time in earnest.

Ingrid quivers when Felix’s long fingers slip between her wet folds. He hums his approval, circling gently around her clit before immediately plunging a digit deep inside of her. She gasps in surprise, and the steady rhythm of her pumping his cock falters. Felix’s smirk widens as he gets closer, ducks his head to nip at her jaw, roughly kissing his way back to her open, panting mouth.

“I want you so fucking bad,” Felix murmurs against Ingrid’s lips; she whimpers in reply.

And then Felix is pushing Ingrid back down, is grabbing at her creamy thighs and effortlessly pulling her closer until his painfully stiff member slides along her dripping entrance, drawing satisfied sighs from both of them. He’s rough as he handles Ingrid, but she’s used to this by now. Felix isn’t good at dealing with his lust, still can’t seem to take his time with the teasing and foreplay. He just wants to skip straight to fucking Ingrid into oblivion, to seeing her blissed out, to hear her moan his name over and over and over until their neighbours are disgustingly aware of their nighttime activities. 

“ _ Please _ , Felix,” Ingrid pleads, grinding herself up against Felix, his tip rubbing against her clit and sending tremors through her legs. 

Felix lines himself up and plunges forward in one smooth movement, snarling at Ingrid’s tight heat. She arches up off of the bed, reaching out to grab any part of Felix that she can, needing something to ground herself. He takes one of her hands, squeezing it tight before kissing at her knuckles down to her wrist. When Ingrid squeezes his hand back, Felix slowly begins to pull himself out, exhaling as he tries to keep himself from immediately ramming back in. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Felix breathes against the back of Ingrid’s hand. She smiles adoringly back up at him, her cheeks somehow turning a deeper red, just like their first time. 

Before Ingrid can come up with some sappy reply, Felix is pushing himself back in, a bit too quickly, too eagerly, taking the breath right out of her lungs. But it’s better this way -- that they don’t get to dwell on the emotional side of this thing they have. Felix likes it like this, the quiet cuddling, basking in each other’s quiet presence, which eventually evolves into venting their sexual frustrations, both of them mutually benefiting without having to acknowledge what lies beneath. Ingrid would prefer to talk about it at least a little, before, during, or after the sex, but Felix (with his hands and tongue and dick) makes a rather convincing case.

Felix works them into a steady rhythm, the slap of skin on skin filling the room along with Ingrid’s stifled whines. They're both already so close, so starved for release, for that tiny taste of what they dare not put into words. Felix plunges himself so deep into Ingrid, hitting her  _ just right _ , but he still brings a hand around to tease her cunt for extra insurance, loving how it makes her flutter around his cock, has her mewling for more. And Felix is determined to deliver, pulling back until he’s almost unsheathed before ramming back in, eliciting a sudden cry from Ingrid which he greedily kisses from her lips.

“ _ \--’m close _ ,” Felix groans after another brutal thrust.

Ingrid can’t make words work, can only nod fervently. But Felix understands, doubles down on his efforts to get her off first, because if there’s anything he enjoys more than winning a fight, it’s being able to feel her come. He buries himself to the hilt, grinds against her the way he knows she likes, rubs desperately around her clit until he can feel her starting to tense up, can hear it in the way she whimpers breathlessly.

“C’mon, you’re so close.” Felix leans over her as he coaxes, his breath hot against her forehead. “Come for me, hun.”

Right on cue, Ingrid keens and Felix immediately feels her begin to convulse around him. He snarls and grabs her roughly by the hips as the pressure in his gut overwhelms him, forces him to fuck wildly into her spasming heat to the sound of her pleading whines.  _ This _ is what he fights for, to be able to indulge in this small slice of heaven, to make Ingrid feel this good, to feel unabashedly  _ alive _ . Felix is so painfully close now, is ready to pull out and finish across Ingrid’s stomach like usual, but suddenly there are two powerful legs wrapping around his waist, holding him firmly in place. Felix feels his breath catch as he gives one last thrust before he’s spilling himself deep inside Ingrid. 

“ _ Fucking hell _ ,” Felix curses as he feels Ingrid milking him dry, using her newfound leverage to ride up on his cock. He groans, rolling his hips into her delicious heat, pushing his cum deeper into her. “ _ Shit _ , Ingrid.”

He gets a needy moan in reply as two hands wrap around his shoulders to press their sweaty bodies together, both of them slowly coming down from their orgasms. Felix doesn’t care much for this part, but he’s too tired to pull away (and Ingrid likes to “bask in their afterglow”). He hears her hum contently while she traces her fingers up and down his back, and he thinks that maybe this isn’t so bad after all. Even so, once Felix feels himself becoming uncomfortably limp, he pulls away and unwraps himself from Ingrid’s clingy limbs. 

When Felix finally slides himself out of Ingrid’s cunt, he can’t help how his breath hitches at the new sight of his cum spilling out of her. “ _ Oh _ .”

“See something you like?” Ingrid giggles teasingly, and when Felix meets those glittering seafoam greens, sees the warmth in her cheeks, notices the plush pink of her kiss-bruised mouth, he feels his chest constrict.

“I love you,” Felix breathes before ducking back down to shower an extremely surprised Ingrid in tooth-achingly sweet kisses. “I love you, I love you, I love you--” he repeats, never wanting to forget how the words make him feel so good, how being this close to the person he cherishes most just makes sense. 

“I love you, too, Felix!” Ingrid squeals out between elated giggles; Felix couldn’t be happier.


End file.
